STAR TREK: Chasing the Twilight
by Cyberfairy
Summary: I'd like to introduce the first chapter of my new fan fiction series, tentatively entitled 'Chasing the Twilight'. Comments and suggestions are much appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

ONE

A hundred starships belonging to dozens different classes sparkled in the reflected starlight, lying at rest in parking orbits thousands of kilometres above the dusty red surface of Mars. Some floated free, while others were cocooned within massive drydocks, held in place like seagoing vessels being consumed by kraken of ancient myth.

Though Lisa Tennant had visited the shipyards of Utopia Planetia many times during her career, that familiarity had not bred contempt. Even as a captain she was as in awe of the enormity of the Federation's largest construction facility as she'd been as a second year cadet, touring the vast shipyard for the first time with her academy classmates.

As she piloted the tiny shuttlecraft amongst the massive interstellar spacecraft being worked on by Mars' industrious engineers, Tennant wondered if she would ever become blasé when visiting Utopia Planetia. She genuinely hoped she wouldn't. Now thirty-four years of age and well into her second decade of Starfleet service, she enjoyed experiencing the same elation she'd felt at nineteen, arriving in Martian orbit for the first time aboard an Academy training ship.

Driven forward by its thrusters, the shuttle emerged from the shadow cast by a mammoth deuterium freighter whose stubby engine nacelles were being dismantled by engineers in EVA suits, prompting a sharp intake of breath from Tennant's co-pilot as he spied the very different spacecraft that had suddenly become visible.

"There she is," Stefan Rhodes said quietly, his voice full of wonder.

The captain leaned forward in her acceleration seat to gaze out at the colossal starship that floated in dock directly ahead, so large that it dwarfed even the freighter they'd just flown by.

The _USS Enterprise-D_ hung in space high above Mars, making every other vessel moored throughout Utopia Planetia look insignificant by comparison. Though she was still weeks away from completion, the third _galaxy_-class ship to be constructed by Starfleet was nonetheless a sight to behold, looking down upon her fellows as if she knew that she was different from the rest. Special.

"That's a big ship," Tennant observed with a smile, enjoying the feeling of pride coarse through her. Normally the construction of a Starfleet vessel roused little emotion inside her, even one as mighty as she one that now dominated the forward view port. But the building of the new _Enterprise_ was another matter entirely.

For this majestic spacecraft was destined to become Starfleet's next flagship, the crowning achievement of Federation science and technology. Within the month her construction would be completed, and the _Enterprise_ would sail out of dock under her own power. After almost a year of exhaustive trials and shakedown cruises to locations throughout the Alpha Quadrant, she would undergo her commissioning ceremony, doubtless drawing guests and dignitaries from across the Federation and allied worlds.

But whilst Tennant looked upon the _Enterprise_ with a sense of awe and pride, she knew that for Stefan Rhodes the sight of the new flagship brought with it only disappointment and longing.

"How are you feeling," she asked him quietly, directing her attention back toward the helm controls.

The young commander kept his gaze locked upon the smooth lines of the _galaxy_-class ship as the shuttle soared past. "What can I say?" the young man replied. "Captain Picard thought Will Riker was the better man for the job."

Tennant knew the selection process to find the _Enterprise's_ first officer had been one of the most intense in Starfleet's history, with candidates from across the fleet putting themselves forward for the position of Jean-Luc Picard's second in command. Picard himself was renowned for being notoriously difficult to please, only accepting the very best into his crews and particularly his command staff. In the final stage of the selection process he'd personally conducted interviews with those he'd short listed in search of a suitable first officer.

Rhodes had been one of those interviewed aboard the _Enterprise_, but had ultimately lost out to Commander William Riker of the _Hood_.

He had also made little attempt to disguise his disappointment at being assigned as Tennant's new first officer following the rejection by Picard, and had been willing to talk about little else during their flight from Starfleet Command on Earth.

But whether he approved of that decision or not, Rhodes was an officer of the fleet and therefore bound by the chain of command. He would serve where Starfleet saw fit to place him, and Lisa Tennant refused to coddle this man and his self pity.

"I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by the _Discovery_," she said finally, redirecting the conversation as swiftly as she redirected the shuttle toward where she knew her ship was waiting. "My first assignment as captain was to supervise the three month overhaul that was just completed. We've upgraded most of her systems. It should see her through the next three years until decommissioning."

Rhodes glanced sideways at her. "Exactly how old is the _Discovery_?" he asked, frowning. "Seventy years?"

Tennant felt a familiar sense of pride building within her. "Seventy two," she corrected. "She was launched from Utopia Planetia in 2291 under Captain John Randle, one of the last _constitution_-class ships to be commissioned by Starfleet. I'm her sixth captain."

The young commander blew out a long breath. "That's incredible. To still be flying after all this time."

"The ship was built with a projected hull-life of seventy-five years," Tennant told him. She'd had the same conversation with many people during her time aboard the ship as first officer, then as her captain. "It's easy to forget that Starfleet has always designed its vessels to remain in service for at least half a century. Unfortunately exploring the unknown depths of space can be a dangerous business so not many of them reach their intended lifespan. The _Discovery_ is one of the lucky ones."

"And in three years she'll be decommissioned?"

Tennant nodded. "Some time during 2366," she confirmed, suppressing the slight pang of sorrow she felt at the prospect. "The exact date will depend on the amount of deuterium and antimatter still onboard at the time. We're not entirely sure what will happen after decommissioning but it seems likely she'll be handed over to the Smithsonian Institute on Earth as a museum piece."

"That's one hell of a way to end a career," Rhodes commented. "Don't other ships just get broken down after they're decommissioned?"

The captain flashed him a smile. "But the _Discovery_ isn't like other ships," she countered teasingly.

Rhodes grinned back at her, conceding the point. Tennant realised that the expression changed the man's face entirely, allowing his boyish good looks to shine through for the first time. Now that he'd lost the dour expression he'd carried with him since they'd met earlier that morning, she actually found Rhodes quite attractive. Of course she would neglect to mention the fact to her husband when she spoke with him that evening.

The _Discovery's_ three month overhaul had allowed her to return home each evening to spend time with Richard, her husband of four years and one of the Federation's most noted archaeologists. By a cosmic coincidence his own ship, the private research vessel _Solace_, was docked above Earth undergoing extensive repairs following an encounter with the Gorn. The battered old vessel Doctor Tennant had owned since his early twenties had been orbiting a world deep inside Gorn territory investigating the ruins of an Iconian colony, when one of their warships had understandably taken exception to the _Solace_'s presence.

But then Richard Tennant had never let such trivialities as territorial infringements stand in the way of his research.

A decade ago that same attitude had had very nearly triggered a war between the Federation and the Tholian Assembly.

Catching her mind wandering, Lisa Tennant refocused her attention on the man sitting quietly beside her. "Have you ever been aboard a _constitution_-class ship?"

"Not a real one," Rhodes replied. "I spent a few hours in the simulator back at Starfleet Command yesterday to get my certification but those things are hardly set up to give you the grand tour."

Tennant nodded. Before a command level officer could transfer to an unfamiliar class of vessel they were required to complete a short training scenario designed to prepare them for emergency situations such as an engine core jettison or full-scale evacuation.

"Well you'll be able to experience the real thing in a few minutes," she told him, steering the shuttlecraft in a wide arc as the sensors alerted her to the spacecraft they were approaching.

As the shuttle turned, both officers watched the beautiful starship that slid into view.

The _USS Discovery_ floated in open space, the great ship holding position at the edge of the Utopia Planetia fleet yard. Her crisp, uncomplicated lines were illuminated by running lights blinking their pattern, calling her captain home.

"We call her the Old Lady," Tennant whispered, a broad smile gracing her delicate features as her eyes drank in the spectacle of her first command, the seventy-two year old wonder that had been turned over to her only three months earlier. Of all the vessels docked throughout Martian orbit, even the fantastic new _Enterprise_, at that moment Lisa Tennant couldn't be happier to be commanding the _Discovery_.

As they approached the old starship from astern, an incoming communications call broke the silence that had descended over the cabin.

_"Discovery to shuttlecraft,"_ a disembodied male voice said over the speakers. _"Welcome home, captain."_

Tennant recognised the voice instantly as that of her tactical officer, Kieran Doyle. "Thank you, lieutenant," she answered. "There's no place like it. Request docking clearance."

_"Bring her on in, captain,"_ Doyle confirmed. _"Once you're aboard your presence is requested in the conference lounge. Admiral Sheppard beamed up from the surface an hour ago and would like an urgent conference with you."_

The captain frowned. Bill Sheppard had commanded the _Discovery_ for over ten years until the beginning of its recent overhaul, five of those years spent with Tennant as his first officer. When the ship had returned home three months ago Sheppard had been promoted to vice-admiral and reassigned to Starfleet Intelligence, and had been instrumental in securing Tennant's own promotion to captain.

"Trouble?" Rhodes asked, obviously picking up on her reaction.

Tennant shrugged as she brought the shuttle about to line it up with the hanger at the stern of the engineering hull. "I guess I'll find out soon enough," she said.


	2. Chapter 2

Bill Sheppard had served the Federation for longer than most of the Discovery's crew had been alive, and throughout the eleven years he'd captained the Old Lady had forged a father like relationship with the people under his command. 

When the Discovery had been recalled to Utopia Planetia for refitting following its encounter with the Tarl, and the then Captain Sheppard had announced his reassignment to the three hundred-strong crew via shipboard speakers, an almost overwhelming sense of sadness and loss had descended over the great ship. But that same sense of loss had been measured by an equal sense of pride. A position in the upper echelons of Starfleet Command, particularly the Intelligence division, was a terrific opportunity and one that everyone felt Sheppard both deserved and would thrive at.

For over a decade Sheppard had been both a captain and a close friend to everyone aboard the Discovery, particularly his close-knit command staff.

It was because of that fact that it came as no surprise to Lisa Tennant when she entered the observation lounge to find her former captain lounging in one of the padded chairs at the long conference table, laughing loudly with the ship's chief surgeon, Arthur Fry.

The chair at the head of the table, customarily taken by the captain and the one that Admiral Sheppard had sat in for so long , was unoccupied. Admiral Sheppard's intention was clear: he was no longer in command of his beloved Discovery, and had not taken his old chair as a sign of respect for Lisa Tennant.

Arthur Fry was a contemporary of Sheppard's, a large, friendly man whose white hair and moustache matched the colour of the long medical coat he always wore. It seemed as though not a day went by that Fry didn't complain how much he longed to retire and 'ride out the clock' back on Earth, but there was a consensus opinion amongst the crew that the good doctor would not entertain leaving Starfleet until the Discovery was herself retired.

Perhaps when the old ship was finally decommissioned Fry would make good on his promise, but until that day came he would be at his post in sickbay, where he had been for nearly three decades.

As Tennant entered the observation lounge located just behind and below the bridge, a sanctuary where the vessel's senior officers could conduct their meetings in private, she folded her arms across her chest and grinned broadly.

"Am I interrupting?" she asked the two men. The half-empty bottle of Fry's best Aldeberan whisky and two loaded glasses sitting on the long conference table told her that she was.

"Not at all!" the doctor exclaimed, turning slightly in his chair and gesturing toward the refreshments. "Would you care for a drink, captain?"

Tennant's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I'm on duty," she said dryly, still smiling.

"So are we," Admiral Sheppard answered nonplussed as he rose his glass in a toast. "But rank hath its privileges.

Fry nodded, joining the toast. "As does age," he added.

Both men downed what whisky remained in their glasses.

Tennant shook her head, eyeing the two men with mock admonishment but unable to banish the grin from her lips. "If you gentlemen are quite finished I believe there was the matter of an 'urgent conference'?"

Her words had an immediate effect, sweeping away their inebriation as easily as a sudden gust of wind swept away old cobwebs.

Sheppard's expression hardened, and he drew in a long breath as he slowly nodded his agreement. "I'm afraid there is," he confirmed, placing his glass down. "Could you give us some privacy, doctor?"

Fry pushed himself out his chair, a grim understanding present on his face as he plucked the bottle of whisky from the table and placed it in the crook of his arm. "We'll continue this at a later date," he told the admiral, before giving Tennant an affectionate tap on her shoulder as he went. "Good to have you back, captain."

The doors to the conference lounge hissed closed as Fry left and Tennant slid into her chair beside the admiral, who had turned to stare out at the endless expanse of the universe visible through the high windows.

"How has he been?" Sheppard asked softly, keeping his gaze locked on the starscape.

Tennant paused. Although she had been fully expecting it since learning that the admiral was aboard, Sheppard's inevitable question caught her off guard nonetheless. "He has good days and bad days," she answered honestly. "Of course he's too stubborn to admit that he's in pain but we all know. Whenever I try to talk to him about he clams up."

"He once told me that doctors make the worst patients," Sheppard said.

Tennant shrugged. "Perhaps it's because they know too much about what's happening to them," she suggested.

Both officers fell silent. Neither wanted to acknowledge the frightening reality of what their close friend faced.

Arthur Fry was dying.

Eight months ago a routine medical scan had revealed the presence of an aggressive and inoperable form of cancer infesting his body. When the doctor had returned from the starbase he'd visited to confirm his own diagnosis, he had brought with him the shocking news that by even the most optimistic estimates, he had only six years left to live.

With no means by which to combat the cancer, Fry had returned to duty as if nothing were wrong.

Three weeks earlier Starfleet had posted a junior doctor to the Discovery to work alongside Doctor Fry, the posting designed to give Doctor Elizabeth Merrick experience of medicine aboard a front line starship exploring the frontier. Almost as soon as the young woman had reported for duty, Tennant had called her into her ready room and asked her to subtly monitor Fry's condition.

"Doctor Merrick provides me with updates on his condition every few weeks," Tennant told him. "Obviously his health is deteriorating but the cancer hasn't accelerated."

"And he isn't aware of her checking on him?"

"I don't think so. Her being an attractive young woman has worked in our favour," Tennant told him lightly. "He seems quite taken with Doctor Merrick. In fact he's commented that she's slowly making him reconsider his promise that he wouldn't get married for a forth time."

"We have the technology and resources of a hundred and fifty worlds at our disposal and there's nothing we can do to help him," Sheppard said. "When you consider how many lives that man has saved during his career. It doesn't seem fair."

Tennant remained silent. There seemed nothing more to say on the subject.

"How is your family?" she inquired, seeking to change the direction of the conversation.

"Marion has never been happier," he answered. "For reasons that escape me she genuinely enjoys me coming home at the end of the day and spending so much time with her."

Tennant chuckled to herself. She'd met Marion Sheppard many times in the last five years, an exceptionally pleasant woman who had lived her entire life on Earth. With no interest in travelling the galaxy, she had remained at the family home while her husband had been in space, awaiting the rare occasions when he returned home.

The captain had no doubt that Marion was delighted when Bill Sheppard had been reassigned to Starfleet Command on Earth.

"And your husband?" the admiral asked. "I understand you've been spending a lot of time at home yourself recently."

"It's been wonderful," Tennant hold him. "With the Discovery in dock and Richard's ship being repaired we've spent more time together in the last three months than we have since we were married."

"You almost sound sorry to be shipping back out," Sheppard observed.

Tennant sighed. Her old captain knew her well.

"Up until three months ago our marriage was at a standstill," she explained. "I was on the Discovery in one part of Federation space and he was digging up artifacts in another. But with the refit and his encounter with the Gorn everything has changed. Now that the work on the Discovery is finished I'm afraid we're just going to slip back into our old ways."

Sheppard leaned back in his chair. He remained silent, as if urging her to continue.

"We're both heading out again and neither of us knows the next time we'll see each other," Tennant said. "I'm thirty-four years old. At some point I'd like to start a family and we can't do that a thousand light-years apart.

The admiral looked at her, holding her gaze for long moments. "You know that in three years the Discovery will be decommissioned. A lot of the crew will be standing down at that time."

His unspoken suggestion hit her like a photon torpedo. "You think I should leave Starfleet?"

Having spent almost half her life in the fleet, the very idea seemed alien to her.

"There's more to life than exploring space, Lisa," he told her earnestly. "Sometimes you can see wonders more spectacular at home that you can in the farthest reaches of the galaxy."

She understood what he meant, and what he was referring to. Sheppard himself had a large family, and was father to five children. He was telling her that the sight of a newborn son or daughter was more astounding than any nebula cloud or supernova.

In that moment, for the first time since entering the academy sixteen years ago, a whole world of new possibilities seemed to open up to Lisa Tennant. Ones that didn't revolve around exploring the galaxy.

And ones that seemed equally exiting.

But this was not the time nor the place to make such life-changing decisions.

"I have the feeling you didn't come out here to talk about my career plans," she ventured.

Sheppard sighed quietly, almost as if he was reluctant to burden his former first officer and friend with the knowledge he'd carried with him from Earth.

"There's trouble brewing out on the Romulan frontier," he explained finally, deliberately. "What do you know about the New Dawn movement?"

The captain leaned forward in her chair, placing her hands on the cool table and interlacing her fingers as she formulated her reply.

"They're a group of Federation citizens who have formed a self styled resistance group," she began. "People who are opposed to the Federation's continued program of expansion. They feel that we're spreading out into the galaxy like some sort of plague."

Sheppard nodded. "Starfleet Intelligence has been monitoring them for years. The New Dawn organises protests on core Federation worlds in an attempt to elicit support. They broadcast their propaganda over subspace from spacecraft throughout Federation territory. In the most extreme cases they've been known to invade Starfleet facilities to damage equipment and gain publicity and notoriety for their cause."

"Nonetheless I thought the New Dawn was considered a minor threat to Federation security," Tennant said.

"That's always been the case," the admiral agreed. "Until now. Nine days ago a photon torpedo was launched at the USS Cole as she orbited Trent. The New Dawn has claimed responsibility for the attack."

Tennant was shocked. Yes, Trent was out near the frontier but the colonisation of the planet had been undertaken as a joint venture between Earth and Vulcan only decades after the Federation was founded. It was almost unthinkable that the Cole could be attacked in such a manner above a Federation planet nearly as prominent as Earth or Vulcan.

"Nine days ago," she marvelled, genuinely shocked by what Sheppard had told her. "A Starfleet ship is torpedoed while orbiting a major Federation world and I'm only just finding out about it? Am I that out of touch?"

"You're not out of touch," he assured her. "Starfleet Intelligence has suppressed news of the attack to deny the New Dawn the publicity they seek. As far as the public know the Cole suffered an engine malfunction in orbit of Trent that damaged the ship."

Tennant's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I had no idea Starfleet was so adept at dispensing misinformation," she said, not intending the comment to sound quite as cynical as it had.

Sheppard didn't appear taken aback. "By attacking a Federation starship the New Dawn has stopped being an annoyance and become a major threat to Federation security that must be eliminated.

Tennant looked at him. "What do you want me to do?"

"How soon can the Discovery be underway?" he asked.

The captain tapped her combadge. "Tennant to Doyle. What's our status?"

"Engineering is making some final adjustments to the warp engines," the tactical specialist replied crisply. Other than that the Discovery is fully operational. We can be under way within the hour."

"Understood. Tennant out."

Sheppard leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "That should be enough time," he decided.

With that, he began to outline his orders.

In the compact quarters that had been provided for him, Stefan Rhodes methodically unpacked the small cloth bag he'd brought with him from Earth. As was he custom he'd travelled light, bringing with him only a handful of personal effects from his parent's home on Earth where he'd been living these last few weeks.

ooo

As he unpacked the bag, he couldn't help but notice how little he actually owned in the way of possessions.

Not for the first time, Rhodes wondered if he had perhaps sacrificed too much in pursuit of a career in Starfleet.

As he listened to the soothing tones of a piece by Shel Dajor, a noted Bajoran composer, Rhodes removed a small photoframe containing a years old image of his parents and sister and placed it gently on the cabin's small desk. The quarters were smaller than those he'd become accustomed to aboard the more modern Exeter and far more sparsely decorated, with none of the warm pastel walls or soft traction-carpet that furnished Starfleet's latest vessels. The cabins on the Discovery were filled with hard edges, with only metallic deckplates underfoot.

From the moment he disembarked the shuttlecraft and set foot on this starship, Rhodes felt as if he'd stepped back in time a hundred years. He was essentially correct.

Of course almost all her systems had been replaced since the Discovery had first entered service seventy years earlier, but even the massive overhaul of 2341 had seen Starfleet do little to make her crew accommodations more comfortable. Yes, every cabin now contained a modern replicator, but Rhodes was certain that he would never think of these new quarters as homely.

Dismissing such thoughts, he checked his reflection in the small mirror as he prepared for his first duty shift as second in command of this soon to be retired starship that her crew affectionately called the Old Lady.

Rhodes decided that he could think of far less sympathetic names for the antiquated vessel.

He had sacrificed his comfortable position as first officer of the Exeter four months earlier to be interviewed for the post of the new Enterprise's second in command. Normally an interview for a new job wouldn't require an officer to give up his current posting, but the Exeter was currently assigned to the Endymon sector three hundred light-years from Earth. After the four-month voyage back to Starfleet Command had led to an unsuccessful application, and having burned his bridges on the Exeter, Rhodes had been assigned to the Discovery.

His current posting was about as far from what he'd intended as he could imagine.

The gentle trill of the door chime snapped Rhodes out of his reverie and back to the present.

"Pause music," the commander ordered, turning toward the cabin's only exit. "Come in."

The twin panels hissed open, and Lieutenant Keiron Doyle stepped over the threshold. Doyle was a tall, powerful looking man of around forty, who appeared to view everyone and everything with an expression that was somewhere between contempt and cynicism.

Captain Tennant had mentioned to Rhodes that Doyle had served on the Discovery for the best part of a decade, with eight of those years as head of tactical and security. His previous posting as been as a drill sergeant at Starfleet Academy.

Meeting the man in person, Rhodes had no problem believing it.

"The captain asked me to give you the grand tour," the newcomer explained crisply, speaking in a deep basso voice that almost seemed to resonate within the confines of the cabin. Even as he spoke, his eyes appeared to dart around the room as if looking for an unseen enemy.

"I'd appreciate that," Rhodes said, resisting the impulse to stand to attention in this man's presence.

"She sends her apologies for not showing you around herself," the tactical officer continued, "but Admiral Sheppard wants us to get under way as soon as possible."

"Where are we going?" Rhodes asked.

"The Neutral Zone," Doyle stated, apparently unwilling to offer any more information as he gestured toward the door. "Shall we go?"

A dozen questions about the nature of the Discovery's mission already forming in his brain, Rhodes led the way out of the cabin. Since the Romulans had largely isolated themselves from the affairs of the galaxy decades ago, ships from both the Federation and the many non-aligned worlds tended to give the Neutral Zone a wide berth.

For obvious reasons, no one wanted to wake the dragon.

He'd been given quarters on the edge of the primary hull, and as Rhodes exited his quarters and stepped into the long passageway that ran the entire circumference of the saucer section, Rhodes noted that the corridors of the Discovery bore a definite resemblance to those he'd seen aboard the Enterprise-D when he'd arrived for his meeting with Captain Picard. He wondered if the shipwrights who'd planned the new flagship had designed the interior of the galaxy-class to have a slightly retro appearance.

But such observations swiftly vanished when Rhodes narrowly escaped being knocked to the deck by a man wearing a loose shirt and running shorts who darted past him.

"Saunders, watch where the hell you're going!" Lieutenant Doyle bellowed after the other man in a voice powerful enough to be heard throughout the vast saucer.

"Sorry, sir!" the man, Saunders presumably, called over his shoulder without stopping.

At that moment two more people dressed in casual clothes jogged past, this time at a more leisurely pace.

"Am I missing something?" Rhodes asked frowning, watching the man and woman jog out of sight around the gentle curve of the passageway.

Doyle shrugged slightly. "I'm afraid you'll have to watch out for traffic during the mornings, commander," he explained. "A lot of the crew use the 411 to exercise at this time of day."

"411?" Rhodes repeated.

"The corridor that runs around the perimeter of the saucer section," the tactical specialist elaborated. "So called because it has a circumference of four hundred and eleven metres. A couple of laps around the 411 every morning does wonders for the legs. You should try it."

"Didn't they build these ships with gymnasiums in 2291?" he groaned.

Doyle smiled wryly. "We have those too, sir" he confirmed, leading the way down the long corridor.

Rhodes fell into step beside the larger man, making a mental note to review the Starfleet regulations regarding improper use of corridors onboard ship.

ooo

Over the course of seventy years in service to the Federation, the starship Discovery had returned to and departed her home port hundreds of times. Nonetheless, as the old constitution-class vessel smoothly accelerated into warp and headed out, there was an almost tangible feeling amongst the crew that this particular departure was different.

Following three months of refitting to help bring the 'Old Lady' into line with her modern counterparts, the Discovery would receive no more systems upgrades from Starfleet. Of course the she would continue to be resupplied with such things as fuel and armaments at whatever outposts she might visit, but the Discovery would remain in her current configuration until the end of her active service three years in the future.

Depending on circumstances, the next time the vessel returned home could very well be for her decommissioning ceremony. And following the customary pomp and ceremony and visits by the admiralty and council members, Starfleet engineers would come aboard to remove any and all sensitive equipment before the great ship began her new life as a museum exhibit.

After a lifetime as home to a well trained but ever-changing crew her decks would no longer echo with the footsteps of Starfleet officers. Instead they would echo with the steps of schoolchildren and civilians looking to experience a glimpse of life on a Federation starship from a century in the past, for as long as the Smithsonian deemed her of interest.

But until that time, the Discovery would continue to serve.

Captain Lisa Tennant sat at the head of the conference table as the ship warped toward the outskirts of Federation space, looking out at the stars streaking by, distorted by the lensing effect of the ship's propulsion fields. She felt the familiar vibration of the powerful reactor a dozen decks below, a phenomenon that she knew was virtually unknown outside the engine rooms of modern, better-insulated vessels.

Occupying five other seats at the polished wooden table were the Discovery's senior staff, each of them digesting the information that their commander had just dispensed. Tennant noted that each of them was expressing a similar reaction to hers when confronted by the bombshell of the USS Cole being shot at above Trent by Federation citizens

The stunned silence was finally broken by Lieutenant Simon Wells, the ship's chief science officer of five years. The scientist had joined the Discovery at the same crew-rotation as Tennant herself.

"Where do we fit into all this?" he asked quietly, voicing the unspoken question amongst the assembled department heads.

Tennant addressed her reply to the entire group. "Admiral Sheppard has an intelligence operative working undercover within the New Dawn movement," she told them, the information still fresh in her mind from her conference with her former captain. "Four days ago this agent sent word to Starfleet Intelligence that following their 'success' with the photon torpedo the New Dawn is trying to obtain a weapon of even greater destructive power. Specifically, a polaric ion device."

"Polaric ion?" Doctor Frost repeated, his blank expression telling everyone that he needed more information.

Keiron Doyle leaned forward in his seat. "I'm not surprised you haven't heard the term, doctor," he said. "Polaric ion technology was developed by the Romulan Star Empire eighty years ago. Apparently they were trying to create a weapon that could, if necessary, bring an enemy power to its knees in the same way the first nuclear bombs did on Earth in the twentieth century. But following an accident that devastated one of their outposts the outcry from both the Romulan people and the interstellar community led to the signing of the Polaric Test Ban Treaty. Federation observers were even sent to ensure that all records and hardware were destroyed."

"And with good reason," Stefan Rhodes interjected from his position to the captain's right. "Polaric ion energy is extremely unpredictable. A stable reaction can become uncontrollable in an instant. Suddenly you've got enough energy on your hands to destroy the surface of half a planet just like Lieutenant Doyle described."

"Which is exactly the reason why the Romulans tried to harness it as a weapon," Doyle added. "Unfortunately for them thousands of their own people had to die before they realised that it was too dangerous."

"Ideally the New Dawn's search for such a weapon would be futile," Tennant said. "But unfortunately the situation isn't quite that simple." She glanced at Frost. "What do you know about the Entek Incident, doctor?"

"I'm not that old," Frost muttered lightly, before pausing for a moment as he appeared to recall the information. "It happened around the turn of the century. It was a massive political flashpoint between the Federation and Romulus that is generally regarded to have contributed to the Tomed Incident a few years later."

Tennant nodded. "In 2308 a convoy of freighters appeared without warning on our side of the Neutral Zone in the Entek system, loaded with refugees from Romulus who'd been deported for being radicals who weren't conducive to the well-ordered Romulan society. Faced with thousands of Romulan nations who'd be killed if they returned home and understandably concerned at having so many people from an enemy power living in Federation space, Starfleet settled them on a world only a few light-years from the Neutral Zone where they've remained ever since."

Rhodes shifted in his chair. "I'm not sure I like where this is going," he admitted.

"Among those refugees was a man who Starfleet leaned was the father of the polaric ion research program," the captain continued. Rhodes' expression confirmed that she was confirming his suspicions. "Of course Starfleet Intelligence provided him with a new identity so that his work could never be duplicated, but with the emergence of the New Dawn as a serious threat Admiral Sheppard feels that this Romulan, Tedrak, has become an unacceptable security risk."

"So our mission is to fly out to the Neutral Zone and bring him back," Doctor Frost concluded.

"Correct," Tennant confirmed.

"But if he's been given a false identity that's known only to a select few in Starfleet," Lieutenant Wells said, "how would the New Dawn even know where to start looking for him on a planet filled with Romulan refugees?"

Tennant had asked the same question of Sheppard less than an hour ago. "They managed to get their hands on a photon torpedo, which seems to indicate that they have at least some experience overcoming Starfleet security measures. The admiral feels that it's best to err on the side of caution. If the New Dawn was able to build a polaric ion device they could lay waste to a planet like Trent, never mind simply damaging a ship orbiting it."

"Does Starfleet really think they'd go that far?" Wells asked.

"I think it's best if we never find out," Tennant told him, rising from her chair to conclude the meeting. "Admiral Sheppard transferred a number of files with information regarding our mission. I'll make them available to you all so you can review them before we reach our destination." She glanced at her first officer. "What's our ETA, commander?"

"Even at high warp we won't reach the Neutral Zone for nearly a week," Rhodes answered crisply.

Tennant nodded slowly, looking back at the streaking warp stars beyond the large viewports.

It was going to be a long week.


End file.
